American Hippo by sarah gailey

Author:sarah gailey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-23T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 2

“No one ever suspects the fat lady, hmmm?”

Regina Archambault whipped around to see who had whispered in her ear—but no one was there.

“Archie? Wassamatt’r?” The man Archie had been talking to a moment ago swayed toward her, his bourbon breath scalding her nostrils.

“Not a thing, ch érie, not a thing.” Archie placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, making the movement seem like a caress. The man—forty-something, white, all his teeth but none of his hair—looked down at her hand as though he were going to lick it.

“D’y’know,” he said, casting a half-squinted eye at Archie’s satin-swagged bosom, “that I’m the riches’ man on the Pochnaroon?”

Archie pressed a hand to her chest, feigning surprise while tugging the neckline of her gown an inch lower. “Well, now, Mr. ’Aberdine, I never would ’ave guessed such a thing!” She gave Haberdine’s bolo tie a tug, aimed a plump-lipped smile his way. “The richest man on the Ponchartrain, and so ’andsome as well? ’ Ow could you keep this secret from me?” She pouted in the way a man like this would expect a Frenchwoman to pout. “I thought we were friends.”

“It’s not going to work.”

That voice again, but this time Archie didn’t turn to look at who it was. Whoever they were, they’d find her eventually. She wasn’t going to play their game.

“I own”—Haberdine stifled a belch—“well, I used’t’own all the boats on the Ponchatrawn and half th’ns on the Missississip, an’ I tell you what, I—” He stopped midsentence, his eyes on Archie’s leg. She’d reached into an inner pocket of her gown while he was talking, and she’d tugged on a strategically loosened string. A significant slit had opened up in the fabric, running from her calf to the top of her thigh.

“Tell me what,” she whispered into Haberdine’s ear, letting her leg edge toward him so that he could see the sheen of her stocking. His fingers trailed along the rent in the fabric. Her fingers trailed along the lining of his inner waistcoat pocket.

“Well, now, Ms. Archie—I was gonna say that if I thought I was rich before…” Haberdine licked his lips as his thumb traced the clasp of her garter where it met the top of her stocking. “T’ain’t nothin’ to how I’m set up now I’ve sold my boats.”

“Sold them?” Archie murmured, tracing a fingertip along his earlobe while feeling in his trousers for a billfold.

“Sol’m to Whelan Parrish, m’dear,” Haberdine said. “Why, that boy’s buying up all the property he can get a handful of—”

Archie jumped prettily, and Haberdine chuckled. “Oh, mon dieu, Mr. ’Aberdine, I—”

“Who’s your friend, Marcus?”

Haberdine snatched his hand out from under her skirt. Archie’s lightning reflexes, honed over a lifetime of grift, were the only thing that saved her from dropping his wallet on the ground between them. She slipped the wallet into a pocket in her bustle as she turned to see who Marcus was sweatily eyeing.

“Marcus, my love, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” There was no mistake

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